He Was The Poet While She Was The Muse
by idjitsandassbutts
Summary: Ever since their first year at Hogwarts, Draco and Shae have been the worst of enemies. Tension increases with each passing day as complications increase in both of their lives. Can the two unite when they realize they are pitted against a common enemy?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: All Aboard - Special Revised Edition

"Shit," I gasped, stopping mid-stride and promptly turning on my heel. "I forgot to get that new potions textbook."

"Shae, we only have half an hour to get to the train station! We don't have enough time to go all the way back to Flourish and Blotts!" Hermione shouted, exasperated at my forgetfulness.

"Never said you had to come along with me!" I said, already racing down the road.

"Sorry," I mumbled, shoving aside a posse of cackling old witches, who looked at me with disdain. A grizzled old man with dull, rust-colored hair appeared in front of me out of nowhere - he must have Apparated - and, unable to stop, I crashed into him, knocking whatever he was carrying out of his hands and scattering it all over the street. Somehow, I didn't fall, and I stumbled past quickly without apologizing (even if I wasn't in such a rush, things like that just weren't in my nature) as shops continued to whizz past me.

Why was it me that had to be the forgetful one? Always distracted, always too much on my mind. Always worrying about my parents' secret obligations, which new enemies I had made and which I had fixed my relations with, who I needed to get revenge on and which professors I needed to suck up to. Things like remembering which textbooks I still needed to pick up seemed just to get pushed to the back of my head, mere afterthoughts in the surrounding chaos. My life is too complicated. I sighed, wishing I could have it as simple as some of my other friends.

Soon, I had passed Gringotts - but not before sweat was literally dripping down my face, vainly attempting to cool me down in the blistering early September heat. When, at last, I passed Madam Malkin's Robes For All Occasions, I was raggedly breathing and bent over, hands on my knees. After a few minutes of leaning against the wall of Madam Malkin's, catching my breath, I shakily stood up and stretched, remembering what I had first come here for.

I fast-walked up to the huge bookstore, not forgetting the fact that we didn't have much time to get to the train station. I pushed the door open and strode towards the counter. "Excuse me, where are the copies of Advanced Potion Making?"

The thin, gangly store clerk pointed to a dark alcove in the southeast corner of the room. "Just over there. Sorry, it's a bit dark. We've tried to conjure light and suspend it in the lanterns, but they always tend to go out soon after, and no one has really been able to explain why..."

"It's alright," I said, not really caring about what the clerk was saying and injecting his little speech with my hasty reply. Huge bookshelves towered over me, sort of imposing in their gigantic stature. On any other day, I could have spent hours poring over everything in there, but at the moment, I had somewhere to be - and I had to be there fast. I checked the watch I usually never wore. I had 20 minutes left.

The clerk was right; the corner here was dark. I could barely see a thing. "Lumos," I whispered hurriedly as I crouched down, my fingers running over the titles, at last coming across a very old-looking Advanced Potion Making. "Thank goodness," I muttered. Just as I was standing up, book in the crook of my arm, a strong hand grabbed my wrist and spun me around. I instinctively opened my mouth to yell out, but before I could, another hand clamped over my mouth, cutting off whatever I was just about to shout. As soon as my eyes caught a glint of platinum-blonde hair flashing in the smallest of rays of light beaming from the tip of my wand, I slapped the hands away, instantly knowing who it was.

"Fancy seeing you here, Finchley," he said.

"I could say the same thing, Malfoy."

"That you could."

"Look, Malfoy, let me go. Now." I demanded, seeing as he was blocking my way out. "I sort of have to get to the train station right now."

"Oh, pity you couldn't stay a while and chat with me."

"Yeah, a real pity, Malfoy. You'll have to wait until I'm dead before you have a 'chat' with me."

He smirked, letting my comment go without issue. He folded his arms and leaned lazily on one of the nearby shelves. "Nice seeing you too, Finchley. Thanks for the wonderful greeting."

"You're welcome," I yelled back, while paying my 5 sickles to the clerk. The white-haired boy just shook his head, smirking all the while.

That marked the end of my encounter with the absolute worst enemy I had made during all of my years at Hogwarts.

After jogging in order to exit the shop, I ran without stopping yet again through the streets of Diagon Alley, it only occurring to me once that Malfoy should be getting to the train station as well, although he looked like he had no intentions of leaving the shop in a hurry. "That's Malfoy for you, I suppose..." I mumbled, thinking to myself.

In a few minutes, I found myself face to face with a very angry Hermione Granger.

"You could have ordered a copy and just borrowed one from the potions room until it came in the post! You never think things out, Shae, and I just know there are not going to be any seats left on the train! Why do you have to always..." After a solid 5 minutes of Hermione ranting, and Harry, Ron, and I running with her silently (and about to burst into laughter the whole time), we jumped into the Weasley's vehicle and drove off to King's Cross Station - arriving exactly 2 minutes before the train was scheduled to leave.

"Just go through the damn wall, Ron!" He had never liked walking through the wall between platforms, and now was no exception. "If you're not going to fucking go through the wall, I'm going first."

"Go, then, if you're in such a rush!"

"I think I will, actually," I said, too annoyed to laugh at Ron's childish fear. Before he had a chance to say another word, I was already sprinting towards the wall, pushing my trolley far ahead of me. As I ran, I heard Ron exclaim,

"Fuck you, Shae."

This time, I laughed a little. I loved mine and my friends' ability to say things like that to each other and still be the closest of companions at the end of the day. Suddenly, a chill crept over me, and I knew I had passed through the seemingly made-of-stone-wall. I breathed in the smoke, feeling at home immediately. "It's good to be back."

Just then, Ron materialized right where I had just been standing, looking shaken and breathing heavily as he always did. "I really do hate that stupid wall."

I chuckled yet again.

"Let's go," I said as soon as Harry and Hermione had joined us. We walked onto the train, dreading the fact that there were probably not going to be any seats left open. We looked into every section, hoping with all of our mights that there would be at least one compartment that wasn't filled yet.

Our hopes were answered.

"Well, that was lucky," said Harry quietly. That was the first time I'd heard Harry speak for quite a while - he seemed to have been very quiet lately. Probably because of what happened to Sirius last year. I couldn't blame him, even though I wasn't there to see the killing itself.

We filed into the compartment, thankful.

I hauled all of my bags, books, and other assorted things onto the empty seat next to me and sighed. "Well, I definitely got my workout today!"

"You have no idea how incredibly lame that sounded," Harry said with a grin.

I shoved him playfully. "Not as lame as your untied shoelaces and the Gryffindor badge you're always itching to put back on."

Just then, the compartment door slid open to reveal a sleek figure wearing all black.

One with platinum-blonde hair.

"Well, look who made it just in time for the train to leave? The Golden Trio and their moronic friend, Shae."

Harry, Hermione, Ron, and I looked at each other with dread.

All were aboard the Hogwarts Express.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Just so you know before you get confused, this fanfic is based LOOSELY around the events of HBP. LOOSELY here means some of the Half-Blood Prince's spells are used, Harry is the Quidditch captain of Gryffindor (although I have tweaked the team roster a bit), and Draco does act oddly (although it's not because he has to kill Dumbledore), etc. LOOSELY also means I have excluded a lot and put some things that happen in HBP into other years. I've tried to make my changes as easy to follow as possible. Enough rambling... enjoy!

Chapter 2: Invasions

"Oh, and look, the so-called Slytherin Prince and his two bodyguards have come to join the party," I said sarcastically.

He smirked, as if sharing some joke with the inner reaches of his mind. "You know, they don't call me the Slytherin Prince for nothing."

"Really? Then why do you need-"

"Crabbe and Goyle aren't my bodyguards," he said slowly, predicting what I was planning to insult him about.

"Then what are they? Your personal servants?"

"You know, Finchley, I always knew you were thick, but even I didn't think you'd never heard of friends before. But I guess I should have known, since you haven't got any yourself."

"Yeah, because, you know, Harry, Ron, and Hermione are just stuffed dummies I decided I wanted to bring on the train."

"Doesn't seem quite like something that's beneath you..." he muttered under his breath.

I laughed humorlessly. "Just shut the fuck up, Malfoy. You seriously need to FUCK. OFF. No one likes you. Not even your little lap dog, Parkinson! You must know that already - or maybe you're even more blind than I thought. The other Slytherins only want to hang out with you because," I put on a high baby voice, "they're afraid you'll go tell Daddy if they're mean to you!" The whole point was to get Malfoy angry, and then maybe he'd leave me alone - but his reaction seemed so unlike him, completely differing from what I had expected.

He winced slightly, as if in pain, or remembering some unpleasant memory, and then sighed. His fists clenched, and a reflection of events long passed glinted in his shockingly blue eyes. "I-," he whispered, frowning before he continued and sighing for the second time. As he looked up to glare at me once more, the anger I had initially expected finally bubbled to the surface, evident in every spat word, every hateful movement. "How dare you insult me like that, you FILTHY, EMBARRASSING excuse for a Slytherin!" Every word was exaggerated, allowing Malfoy's wish for me to spontaneously combust become excruciatingly apparent.

With that, he whipped out his long hawthorn wand and pointed it straight between my eyes. The compartment wasn't very large, so if I wanted, I could easily reach out and swat it away with my hand. But where was the fun in that?

Something about Malfoy's position and expression triggered a once-buried memory, one of a time way back in first year - the initial reason for my animosity towards Draco and for his towards me.

I remember, like it was yesterday, being terrified of the Sorting - mostly terrified I would be sent home, told I really wasn't a wizard, that I didn't belong at Hogwarts. Even with my pureblood ancestry, I couldn't help but be exceedingly anxious as to which House I would be Sorted into. With thoughts of rejection by the wizarding world and by my friends and family dancing mutinously through my head, I had been Sorted into Slytherin. Ultimately, I was glad I had - from the opening description the Hat gave us, it sounded as if that was exactly where I belonged. Something about it appealed to me more than any of the other Houses, and immediately after I half-walked, half-stumbled to the Slytherin corner of the room, I felt like I fit in, for once in my life.

I had sat down at the long, seemingly ancient Slytherin table, a content, untroubled half-smile on my face, and introduced myself to anyone who cared enough. One of those, apparently, had been Draco. Of course, I hadn't hated him yet - that was the first time I'd ever met him.

"I'm Draco Malfoy. You're Shae Finchley?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yeah," I answered.

"Welcome to Slytherin," he said, and smiled.

For a few weeks, our friendship progressed steadily. We walked to classes together, making fun of all passing students (being sure that they couldn't hear us, of course - we were only first years, after all, and the older students would probably be able to beat the pulp out of us), we snuck out at night to steal some extra sweets from the kitchens, we tested out curses on some of the meeker first years, and even managed to play a few pranks on some unwary Gryffindors - namely Potty, the Weasel, and the Mudblood (although, over time, I became friends with those three after falling out with Draco).

Put simply, Draco and I were getting along very well. He had seemed to be one of the only ones who could accept who I was, and I was the only one Draco could talk to without being afraid of what I would say. He was almost more than I could ever ask for in a friend.

So, one brisk winter day, I had been waiting for Draco in the common room - he still hadn't gotten up, even though I was sure he knew we had Transfiguration first hour, and we couldn't afford to be late again, or McGonagall would surely use the Killing Curse on us, no matter how long it got her locked up in Azkaban. Impatient and exasperated, I practically flew up to the boys' dormitories, not caring about the invasion of privacy I was undoubtedly committing. Draco, as I had suspected but could not explain the reasoning behind, was still sleeping. At once, I was intrigued by a tattered-looking black book sitting on a small, narrow desk next to Draco's bed. Now, I cringe at the memory, knowing that if I hadn't looked at that book, we would probably still be friends. Unfortunately, curiosity got the better of me, and I grabbed the book cautiously, not wanting to make any loud noises that would wake him up.

The cover was stained and torn, but I felt like it was of a much greater value than its shabbiness suggested, and that no matter how abused it got, it would still be of the same worth. I flipped to the first page, seeing drawings of strange symbols and gruesome pictures I deeply regretted setting my eyes upon. A few pages later, actual writing appeared - notes or descriptions of some sort. At first, I didn't believe Draco had written these - the objects, things, beasts, whatever was being focused on seemed far too obscure and professionally studied to have come from a first year Hogwarts student. I scanned the book up until the writing and sketches finished after a couple pages, and saw a signature at the end - 'Draco Malfoy'. Something about this strange diary gave me the impression that if a teacher had set eyes upon it, it would've been immediately confiscated and Draco would've gotten quite a few detentions to boot. I flipped a few more pages. Here was some kind of strange poem. I read a few words and felt as if I had just been Confunded - at least, I imagined that was how it must feel to be Confunded. I couldn't seem to process any of the phrases, although I could read each word normally. Imagine a time while you're reading, but concentrating on something else completely different at the same time. Your mind can still understand the words, even though you're not taking any of the information in. And then, when you snap out of your reverie, you realize you've read through several paragraphs, but don't remember any of it, and have to read it all over again. It felt kind of like that. It didn't make sense in the slightest, so I decided not to dwell on it. Draco had probably put a spell on the diary to prevent anyone from comprehending it.

My fingers were in the process of turning the next page, when just then, Draco rose out of an apparently deep slumber and faced me with what could only be described as a highly potent death glare. Words failed me at that moment; I didn't think (and still don't think) even the greatest of writers could describe how angry he looked just then. I could easily imagine red hot smoke pouring out of his ears as he took in the fact that I was encroaching on something that was obviously not meant to be encroached on. He threw off the sheets, and snatched it out of my hand.

"Rictusempra!" he screamed loudly, knocking me clear out of the room and through the door. I landed with a thud on the other side, stunned. Draco burst through the room with his book in his hand. He pointed his wand at my throat. "Touch this book, or ever go near it again, and I'll kill you. Literally."

I had to admit, I was scared. Even 11-year-old Draco frightened me with his ferociousness and utter rage. I scrambled to Transfiguration as fast as I possibly could.

Weeks passed, and neither of us had spoken to one another since that day. I gave it my best effort to try and apologize, make up for what I did, anything to set things right again. At first, I periodically approached him myself, figuring that doing it in person would probably be the best way to ask for forgiveness. All Draco did was turn his back, ignore me, and begin talking to someone else, as if I wasn't even there. When I confronted him alone, he looked at me with glazed-over eyes, not really looking at me, probably off in his own little realm.

Next, I tried getting some of my other friends to talk to him for me. Really, that only made things worse. I got the feeling that Draco thought it cowardly of me not to confront him myself, even though he barely reacted when I did. I continually got more desperate - I was determined not to lose my best friend over something that I didn't even understand. I sent anonymous owls begging him to realize that I was sorry, bought him tiny little gifts that I thought might soften his anger, and taped notes with little sad faces in them on some of his belongings when he wasn't looking. Anything and everything one could possibly think of, I tried, and it all amounted to absolutely nothing.

Eventually, my anger at Draco not caring that I wanted to be friends again became too much to stand, and I abruptly severed every single tie I had to him. If he wanted to be on his own, then so be it.

After that, Draco and I were worst enemies.

Now, on the train, I was reminded of that experience, no matter how much I wanted to forget it. I gulped the dry air and drew out my own wand slowly from my jeans pocket.

"Can't you wait until school until you start fighting? For goodness sake, put your wands down!" Hermione cautioned.

"You think I'm going to listen to a filthy Mudblood like you? Guess again, Granger," Malfoy said with a sneer.

Attempting to catch him off guard, I shouted, "Stupefy!"

My plan failed. Draco and I shouted the incantation at the exact same time, neither of us able to gain the upper hand.

Our curses met in midair and seemed to mingle and swirl around each other, doing an odd sort of dance - strange, but weirdly beautiful at the same time. This lasted but a few seconds after the curses shot off towards Draco and I respectively, hitting us both square in the chests.

I was knocked back into the window, realizing painfully just how cold and unwelcoming it was. Draco, on the other hand, was pushed back into the door, rattling the frame and nearly cracking the glass because of the sheer force that he hit it with. Hermione rushed to my attention, while Harry and Ron sat dumbly, not really knowing how much aid they could provide and mostly just trying not to laugh at Malfoy. Crabbe and Goyle looked confused - obviously they couldn't do anything without a direct order from Draco. Suddenly my vision grew spotted, red lines cutting across it like those on a candy cane. I looked across the way, and saw Malfoy looking dazed, as if he could barely see either.

The next thing I knew, I was out cold.

When I woke up, everything was white. The walls, the ceiling, the curtains, the sheets... the sheets? "Where the hell am I?" I muttered sleepily, not expecting an answer.

"We're in the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts, completely alone, because we both passed out at the same time on the Hogwarts Express." a voice spoke quietly to my left, with just a touch of annoyance.

My head snapped towards the altogether-too-familiar voice, my eyes falling on a blonde-haired Draco Malfoy lying in the bed next to me, looking at me with one icy blue eye, his left hand rubbing his forehead. My brain took a second to process the situation, but I sighed angrily when I realized what had happened. Acting on impulse, I edged closer to the right, putting instinctive difference between Draco and I.

"Did we miss the feast?" I asked.

"Obviously."

"Fuck."

"We've been here for a while. It's one A.M."

"Fuck."

"Madame Pomfrey set up these beds for us, went down to the feast, and then left us in here alone."

"Fuck."

"God, Finchley, I thought you had more than a one-word vocabulary."

"Oh, shut the hell up."

The corners of his mouth turned up in that trademark smirk, and he shook his head subtly.

"Where are our robes and trunks and stuff?" I asked him, looking around the room.

"In the corner over there." he said, nodding in the general direction of our things.

With almost anyone, I would have said thank you, but with Malfoy, that was practically out of the question. Quickly rising from the bed, I ambled over to the corner, which, on each of our trunks, were our school clothes.

"I'm going into the bathroom to change. Try coming in, and you're going to be reminded of your experience as a ferret in fourth year."

I grabbed my clothes and magically unlocked the door to the bathroom. It was rather large and everything seemed absolutely pristine, but, somehow, it gave off a cheery feeling that revolted me. I reckoned Madam Pomfrey somehow was able to put a Cheering Charm on it, for reasons I couldn't begin to explain. It didn't seem like people had the absolute need to be especially delighted as they were using the toilet.

Just for good measure (and partly because I knew Draco), I hurriedly transfigured about ten towels into bolts of different sizes and placed them on the door. Hopefully if Draco decided he wanted to take a peek inside, they would buy me enough time to react before he came in. I considered the fact that he could easily unlock them in a matter of seconds, but then I decided I was being an idiot and that I should just hurry up and get changed.

I had just jumped into the black slacks of my uniform and taken off my grey T-shirt, when the doorknob jiggled, and, acting on instinct, I whispered, "Accio towel!" and used it to cover myself up to some painfully low degree before Malfoy conspicuously opened the door. I figured that in the space of time my Accio spell took, Malfoy was able to unfasten all of the bolts. Apparently some part of me was exposed, because Draco smirked, folded his arms, and stared pointedly at the towel I had tried to wrap around my torso.

"Get out of here. NOW!" I yelled menacingly, wrapping the towel more firmly around myself.

"What if I don't want to?" he asked, trying to sound innocent while intently eyeing my chest.

"And what if I promise you're going to turn into a ferret in about three seconds?"

This got him shuffling out of the room, faking dejection but failing, a smirk still plastered on his face.

I changed quickly, got out of the bathroom, and went to go feed my speckled brown and white barn owl, sifting through my trunk to look for some owl treats.

"Here you go, Tytus, now quit whining."

He gave a hoot of indignant protest.

"Sorry," I said, placing the owl treats back into my case and standing up. As I was feeding my bird, Draco had waltzed into the bathroom and begun his own business. I grinned evilly. It was pretty obvious (if you asked me) what I was about to do. Payback was needed.

I stepped quietly over to the wooden door, listening to the fluid swish of clothes being put on. "Bombarda!" I whispered, and jumped backwards.

The door flew clean off its hinges, and fell where I was standing just seconds ago.

I stepped over the door and into the room, only to find a Draco I barely recognized looking back at me with a bewildered expression. A white collared shirt was clutched in his hands, and his chest was bare. I felt my eyes widen, and I couldn't help but stare at the handsome figure of the person standing in front of me.

That trademark smirk flashed again on his face, and I was brought - somewhat - back to reality.

This is Draco Malfoy I'm looking at. Not eye candy. I repeated to myself inside my head, unable to tear my eyes away.

"Looks like we have a new subject for being turned into a ferret, eh?"

I came into focus and broke out of my mesmerized trance. "Nah, I don't think so," I said, and walked out of the room. Before I crossed the threshold, however, I leaned my head in again and said, "At least we're even now."

"You know you just wanted another peek, Finchley."

I felt myself turn red against my will. I opened my mouth to say something, but couldn't think of a comeback fast enough, so I objected with one phrase: "No way!"

"Yes, way," he said, and repaired the door with a quick spell, leaving me in the main wing.

I had quite mixed feelings about that situation. On one hand, I was thoroughly embarrassed. On the other, I felt kind of attracted to the guy I had just seen half naked. I played Quidditch, one of the Chasers for the Slytherin team, and I knew that it was a hard, taxing sport, but I didn't think it was possible to look like that after flying around and throwing balls all day. Layers of lean, sinewy muscle covered every inch that I had seen of his body, and it was clear that because of his naturally thin stature, he needed all of it in order to compete with the larger members of the opposing Quidditch teams.

However, never in a million years could I think of him as being hot. Or cute. Or anything that suggested that I had any other feelings towards him besides pure hatred. I could admit that he was built pretty well, not what expected, but he was still Draco, and that was something I just could not ignore.

Dwelling on all of this wasn't going to help me. I pushed the thoughts out of my mind as he walked out of the bathroom, clutching his other clothes in one hand. They were shaped oddly square-ish, as if they were wrapped around a book of some sort. I watched him subtly, out of the corner of my eye, as he walked over and dropped his things in his large trunk. Just before he closed it, I caught a glimpse of that black, old book peeking out of the corner. I definitely wasn't going to say anything, seeing as it was the catalyst that had torn apart our friendship, and that was in first year; we had loads of more painful spells to use on each other if the situation were dire enough.

I hauled my trunk out of the room. "See you," I muttered self-consciously.

"Bet I know which part of me you'd like to see next," he replied, and chuckled maliciously.

I looked at him with a positively venomous look, and he stopped laughing. "Watch yourself, Malfoy."

"Bye, Finchley."

Without a glance back, I threw open the large oak doors that led to the hallway.

As my feet fell softy on the marble floors, I could feel eyes boring into the back of my head.

The ice-blue eyes of Draco Malfoy.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I have the feeling someone's going to be bugging me about this, so here goes: I do not own any of these characters, except for the obvious ones that never appear in the books. The rest belong to J.K. Rowling and her brilliantness.

Chapter 3: You Are What You Are

"Shae - WAKE UP!" a familiar voice yelled into my ear, driving through the sleep crowding my mind and seemingly jabbing it with an invisible pitchfork.

"Uhnnnn..." I muttered groggily, rolling over in my bed and swatting the air with my hand.

"Shae, breakfast starts in 5 minutes! You need to get up NOW!"

"Huh? Hermione, that you? You sound like my mother..."

She gave an exasperated sigh. "Yes, it's me, Shae. Now get UP!"

"Hermione, why are you in the Slytherin dormitories?"

"Does it matter? But, well... first of all, I was worried about you - you know, because of what happened on the train yesterday - and second of all, I knew you would never get up with out someone telling you to!"

"I'm perfectly capable of waking myself up, thanks. And, anyway, I think someone would notice if I didn't show up to any of my classes." I threw the covers off of myself, shivering at the absence of my warm blanket. I blinked in an attempt to clear the bleariness out of my eyes, shuffling over to my trunk only to remember that I had already put on my robes the night before and that changing was unnecessary. "I need a shower."

"There's no time for that!" Hermione yelled, wringing her hands. "Why don't you use that spell you read about over the summer - Madam Malkin's Instant Cleaning Spell or something?"

"That was meant for robes, Hermione, not humans. You, of all people, should know-"

"Oh, well, sorry - take one after breakfast, then. We're getting our schedules and we need to get down to the Great Hall."

I harrumphed theatrically - although my ears did perk up a bit after I heard the phrase 'getting our schedules' - and decided that showering could wait another hour or so. "Let's go, then," I said. "Accio hairbrush," I mumbled as an afterthought, running the brush through my already-glossy black hair and then tossing it back in my trunk, one foot outside the door.

"Come on, already! Is it possible to go any slower?" Hermione remarked for about the fiftieth time as I continued my slow lope up the several flights of stairs leading away from the dungeons, completely ignoring her comments.

"Yup," I said, demonstrating just how slow I could go by stopping mid-stride and inching my toe a bit farther every few seconds.

"Oh, Christ, Shae, I get it. Now can you please -"

"All right, all right," I said, quickening my pace so much that Hermione had to practically jog just to keep up with me.

At long last, we reached the Great Hall where the first breakfast of the school year was being served. Long lines of sixth years stood in front of the seats of each of their Heads Of Houses, and other students took advantage of the teachers' distraction by participating in various forms of tomfoolery - levitating silverware off of tables and hitting each other in the backs of the heads with them, using Incendio on other students' hats, and plenty of risky stunts they wouldn't dare pull in front of their professors.

"These lines are effing gigantic," I said, slightly miffed that I hadn't gotten up earlier and that I hadn't listened to Hermione while she was telling me to go up the stairs faster.

"Well, maybe if you had actually-"

"I know. Whatever. Let's go."

Walking over to Professor Snape's line (thankfully, the shortest one) and giving a quick wave to Hermione, who was making her way over to the opposite side of the room where Professor McGonagall was assigning the Gryffindors their classes, I folded my arms and leaned against the stone wall in wait.

Abruptly realizing that I was starving, I looked around to see which platters looked appetizing. Choosing one piled with bacon, I spoke the Wingardium Leviosa charm and chuckled quietly at the bewildered faces of the second years sitting near the platter as I urged it towards me. I grabbed a few select pieces and, with an almost imperceptible flick of my wrist, placed it back where it lay seconds ago.

I munched quietly, growing more impatient with every minute that passed and with every person that walked down the aisles, schedules in hands. Some were softly smiling, and others were positively grimacing. I only hoped I wouldn't be grouped with the latter.

Finally, the student in front of me was finished, and I approached Snape, half-anxious, half-excited as to what classes I'd have this year.

"Ah, Miss Finchley, I thought you'd never arrive. Late, as always."

"Sorry, Professor."

"I must say, I was hoping your perpetual tendency to be behind schedule may have dissipated, but I suppose my hopes were too far-fetched. No matter, we'll fix you up this year," he said, the ghost of a smile appearing on his lips. "I am sure you've seen your O.W.L. scores from last year, but maybe you need to, shall we say, refresh your memory?" he turned the paper he was holding in his hands towards me, and slid it slightly, so I could see better.

Astronomy -E

Care Of Magical Creatures -P

Charms -O

Defense Against The Dark Arts-O

Divination - D

Herbology- E

History Of Magic - A

Potions - E

Transfiguration - O*

*Eligible for seventh year course. See Head Of House for details.

As soon as I nodded, signaling that I had finished reviewing my O.W.L. scores, Snape slid the paper back towards himself and reached for another sheet - my schedule.

"You will be moving on to become a N.E.W.T. student in Charms, Defense Against The Dark Arts, Herbology, Potions, Astronomy, and Transfiguration. Funny... all the classes and one extra that you need to become an Auror, Miss Finchley."

"Oh, I won't be becoming an Auror, sir. I don't think it would work out for me, personally..."

I could swear I saw a glimmer of approval cross his face. "What is it you wish to do, then?"

"Honestly, I'm not really sure yet, sir."

He gave a curt nod. "Here is your schedule. I expect you to be on time for my class this year. Detentions if you are not - oh, don't look at me like that, Miss Finchley, I know you expect me to let you... slide, seeing as it is your first day."

"Yes, Professor."

"Now, as you should have noticed, your Transfiguration score was perfect, and the undeniable skill you have demonstrated with the subject in the past has garnered you a recommendation from Professor McGonagall, making you eligible to enter her seventh year class. Professor Dumbledore has incorporated this into your schedule so that you have no choice but to take that particular course. I trust that the difficulty level and amount of work that goes along with it will not interfere with your performance in other classes. Is that clear?"

I pursed my lips and held back a groan. I had been hoping for a basically free Transfiguration class this year, since everything we would be learning I had already known how to do for at least a few years in advance. "Yes, Professor," I said begrudgingly.

With that, I quickly grabbed my schedule from Snape's waiting hands. Staring down at my it, I walked to my House table, half-paying attention as I sat next to a few of my Slytherin friends, Anna and Evelyn, who knew enough not to bother me while I was reading such important texts as this.

"Defense Against The Dark Arts first... then, oh no, Potions..." My face crumpled with disgust at the order in which my classes occurred. "At least it's a free period after that... but still, I wish I hadn't gotten into 6 N.E.W.T. classes..."

"Oh, come off it, Shae, at least you were smart enough to get that many! I only got into 4! And those are all the ones you missed in... except for Astronomy..." Anna said, leaning over to compare her schedule with mine. "And you don't have any free periods with me at all."

"What about you, Evelyn?" I asked.

She studied mine from upside-down. "I've got Charms, Herbology, and Defense Against The Dark Arts with you. I've also got Care Of Magical Creatures and Divination, which you don't..."

I glanced around the room. "What time is it?"

"It's 8:03," said Evelyn, quickly looking at her watch.

"I'm gonna go take a shower before Defense Against the Dark Arts. See you guys."

"Aren't you going to have breakfast?"

"My shower is more important. Plus, I stole some bacon from some second years while I was waiting in line."

Anna and Evelyn glanced at each other, both of them shaking their heads.

"What?" I questioned, wondering what the shakes of the heads were for.

"Nothing," Anna replied, a small smile on her face.

"Whatever," I said, shrugging. I turned quickly and began to weave my way through the tables and groups of students who had elected not to sit down. Due to a large congregation of rowdy seventh years (who I didn't wish to tangle with at the moment) blocking the easiest route out of the Hall, I reluctantly forced myself to pass by the dreaded Gryffindor table. Just because I was friends with three of the members of that House did not put me in favor of any of the rest of them.

Thankfully, many of the Gryffindors in my year weren't sitting at the table - either they were getting their schedules from McGonagall or they were standing up, comparing the afore-mentioned schedules with those of their friends. A few paces away from me, however, a group of boys who I recognized as being my age sat, most likely unconcerned with things like the order in which they would have classes. One of them subtly nodded in my direction and nudged another one with wiry, thick hair and a strong build, who I recognized as being Cormac McLaggen. Cormac turned his head toward me and winked suggestively, lips parted slightly, while his friends looked at him, laughing to themselves.

I looked straight ahead, trying to force down a smirk and failing halfway, shaking my head slightly. I passed them, finally appreciating how much of an ordeal it was to get out of the Hall when it was the first day and extremely crowded. Shoving the giant oak doors open, I raced down the stairs two at a time. Mid-stride, I realized that, since I hadn't been present when the passwords for the portraits were given, I wouldn't be able to get into the common room on my own. The only reason I could get in last night without knowing the password was because one of the other Slytherins had forgotten to close the door after entering, and I was able to capitalize on that mistake and waltz in without anyone noticing. "Maybe they gave it to us at the end of last year and I have it written down somewhere..." I said halfheartedly, opening my black bag and rummaging through crumpled papers and folded up notes I had jammed in there when I didn't know where else to put them. "Or I'll get lucky and it's 'pureblood' again, for about the fiftieth-"

In my distracted state, I didn't notice someone walking quickly towards me, looking distracted themselves, nor was I expecting to crash into that someone and drop all my things on the ground. Full-out ready to start screaming at whoever it was that should've been watching where they were going, I opened my mouth, only to realize that it was my one and only best friend, who I hadn't seen since the end of last year and who I trusted beyond measure, Azrael.

"Aze!"

"Shae."

We both said/yelled each others' names at the same time.

"Aze, where the hell have you been all summer? I sent something like twenty owls! I even Floo'd myself to your house once. Your mother screamed me for that one, but that's beside the point - I was so worried about you!"

"I was... around," he said cryptically, still managing to maintain the supreme calm he always exuded.

I arched an eyebrow, conveying in that single movement that the phrase 'I was around' was not about to cut it for his explanation for what he had been doing all summer.

Seeing this, and glancing around to make sure no one, not even the portraits on the walls, were watching, he leaned down and whispered as quietly as he could muster - more of a breath, really, "I'll tell you later, after classes. It's not exactly something I'd want to start talking about here in the open," he gave the barest hint of a grimace and his voice switched back to a normal tone. "Besides, I'm about to go and get murdered by Snape for being late, so... I guess I'll see you."

"Alright, but you'd better be prepared to answer every single question I can possibly think of when I ask you later. And I mean it."

"Shae, I know you too well to think that you wouldn't mean it. And don't think you're not getting questioned yourself - I heard about what happened on the train yesterday, even though I wasn't there myself," he said, walking away towards the Great Hall. Just as he was rounding a corner, I yelled:

"Wait! What's the password for the common room?"

He stuck his head around the corner. "It's Slughorn at the moment."

"What? Are you serious?"

"Of course not. It's Mudbloods suck."

"Aze!" I shouted, not being able to keep myself from laughing.

"Sorry. Phineas Nigellus."

"Thanks, Aze. See you."

Almost before I had the chance to take one more step, Azrael's head turned around the corner again. "Umm... just so you know, it might smell a little bit in there. I had one of my, err... episodes... with someone's pet again."

"What was it this time?"

He flashed me a devilish grin. "Pansy's cat. She's going to have to get a new one."

I rolled my eyes. "Nice one. I'll be careful."

At last, Azrael disappeared, and I bolted as fast as I could for the common room. When I reached the stretch of worn, ancient stone wall that would become the doorway, I spoke the password, Phineas Nigellus, and watched as the faint lines of a door appeared on the wall, finally rising slightly from the existing stone and opening on its own. I slipped inside and was immediately assaulted by the awful stench of a dead animal - literally. Putrid meat coupled with the unmistakable odor of old waste products and just a hint of something rotting was enough to make me want to run for my life - Azrael had made a fatal error when he had said "it might smell a little bit". It smelled a lot in there.

"Jesus Christ..." I said nasally, pinching my nose with my fingers. Staying in the main part of the common room seemed like a bad idea to me, so I swiftly climbed the stairs leading to each of the boys' and girls' dormitories. "Aze is definitely getting a little talk about conducting his experiments outside instead of in the damn common room..." I muttered, annoyed.

Half an hour later, I burst out of the common room, just in time to race into the Defense Against The Dark Arts classroom, skidding on the floor as I came to an abrupt stop. I had forgotten - this year, Snape was the teacher. And Snape's class meant assigned seats.

"Nearly late again, Miss Finchley... pathetic. Take your seat." Snape motioned to a spot in the middle-right spot in the classroom, next to some nobody Ravenclaw kid called Matt Gretchen. I noted with perhaps too much glee that the seat was also on the opposite side of the room from Draco, putting a pretty sizable difference between the two of us.

Thank goodness... I thought, grateful for at least one thing that day.

"Any trouble and you will immediately be moved next to Mr. Malfoy. That animosity is no secret, I daresay..." he muttered.

"Yeah, no shit, Sherlock," I whispered as I sat down, earning a barely-concealed chuckle from the kid, Matt, next to me. I glared at him, my contempt for generally any non-Slytherin showing plainly on my face. That shut the kid up fast. Most people, even ones who weren't in my year, had a pretty good idea of how angry I could get and what I was capable of if the need happened to arise.

My eyes scanned the classroom and quickly found Azrael a few seats behind me. "I haven't forgotten!" I mouthed to him as sneakily as possible, then pointed two fingers towards my eyes and then towards his in an 'I'm watching you' motion.

The corner of his mouth turned up in a half-smile, and his eyes flicked back to Snape.

"Since you have all had me for each one of the six years you have already spent here at Hogwarts, I expect you all to already know the rules you should use as your guidelines while inside this classroom. You are N.E.W.T. students now, and even though some of you have gotten here through skill," he glanced surreptitiously first at Draco, and then at me - I knew Snape loved the both of us, even though he pretended to hate everything I did, considering I tended to cause trouble, particularly where Draco was concerned - "others by cheating," then staring pointedly at the kid next to me, "and others by sheer luck," finally landing a short, sharp gaze at nearly everyone else in the room, "you will have to keep up, or else you will immediately be dropped from Defense Against The Dark Arts. This year you will learn about highly advanced concepts for defensive magic, discover how to ward off the most powerful Dark charms, and build up your arsenal of protective spells, among other things, all of them most likely out of your mind's capacity to grasp. Good behavior is a requirement, and any of the opposite will result in severe punishment. Am I clear?"

A murmur of agreement flowed throughout the room. None of us were particularly excited to be working with Snape for an entire year on advanced, difficult magic - that, I could certainly tell.

"Am I clear?" he repeated more slowly, eyes narrowing.

We all replied with the slightest bit more fervor this time, silently hoping Snape wouldn't punish anyone on our first day.

"Very well. We'll begin the year with a review of everything you've studied up to this point. I sincerely hope your previous lessons haven't completely escaped you, no matter how insufficiently they have been taught in the past."

We began with simple, easy charms like Protego and Expelliarmus that I had already known for quite a while - in other words, things that nearly put me to sleep, and which caused my partner to break out in a cold sweat because he had never actually known them in the first place. Then, we moved to more recently-learned topics, ones I still had almost no trouble with, and that again, Matt could barely even pronounce the incantations for. He's not going to last long, I thought.

That fact only reinforced something that had been in the back of my mind since I had begun learning the magical arts here: Hogwarts was cutthroat, and sixth was going to be the year when everything changed.

"You free the period after this?" I asked Aze, more curious than ever as to what he had spent his entire summer doing.

"Like I said, wait until later tonight. Less people around that might be listening," he said, a faint smile appearing on his lips.

I mocked a groan. "Can't even tell your best friend what you've been doing for months. No matter how mental you are, that's just pathetic."

"Not as pathetic as your annoying begging!"

I grinned then and punched his shoulder forcefully, causing him to stumble just a bit and almost drop one of his textbooks.

"You'd better watch it, Shae, or I'm not telling you anything," he said playfully, chuckling a bit.

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, just shut up, Aze."

It felt good to be back with my best friend, laughing and joking like we had done right from the moment we met, long before we even got our Hogwarts letters. But, naturally, nothing good could ever last, and before I knew it, Draco Malfoy was yelling at me from down the hall.

"Hey, Finchley! How many O.W.L.s d'you fail? I'm guessing all of them, besides DADA, and you only got in there because you cheated off Granger."

"Yes, I failed all of my O.W.L.s, that's why I'm heading towards the Potions classroom and not the common room. I've decided I'd like to spend some quality time with Professor Slughorn," I said, each word soaked in sarcasm.

"Just tell me, Finchley, what classes have you got? I'm trying to keep my talking with you to a minimum."

"Why do you care, Malfoy? Worried I'm going to Transfigure another one of your body parts by "accident" like I did last year?" I asked, forming air-quotes around the word "accident". There was absolutely no accident about what I had done - not by a long shot.

"No, but obviously you're worried I'm going to switch your Pepperup Potion with dyed Veritaserum for the third time in two years. Or I could always go with my original thought, that you're too embarrassed to admit you've failed all your O.W.L.s."

"I haven't freaking failed all my O.W.L.S., Malfoy - more than I could probably say for you."

Apparently Draco was tired of our insulting banter. In one swift movement, he snatched my schedule out of my hand and took out his own, comparing them while jogging down the hall for a few paces so that I couldn't simply grab it right back.

"I am so fucking sick of you, Malfoy! GO AWAY AND GIVE ME BACK MY SCHEDULE!"

He stopped, the smirk on his face managing to be both disgusted and amused at the same time. His eyebrows lowered and raised quickly, just another one of the annoying habits he had that I had noticed over the years. "Have fun with the schedule, Finchley. Glad to know I'll be seeing a lot of you this year," he said, loping off, his gait confident and sure. I hated that about him - his arrogance, his iciness, his smile that sent your mind reeling with everything that he had hidden behind it.

It surprised me to think that I was almost the exact same way.

"That stupid boy is going to be the death of me, I swear," I said with enthusiasm, my cheeks flushed with anger, watching him walk down the hall.

"You say that too often," observed Azrael.

"I know," was my only reply.


End file.
